


Silver Linings

by AgentWindsnap



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: (its these two what do you expect???), (please don't you'll die unless its water), AU - Alternative Universe, Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Adoption, Agoraphobia, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Can't ignore some dark parts tho, Damaged People Healing, Drug Use, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Found Family, Gelfling Culture, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It's mostly family fluff I swear!, Jen (The Dark Crystal), Jen has two dads, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, References to Torture, Season 2 isn't out yet but these two will not die on my watch, Self-Harm, SkekGra the Heretic, Skeksis Culture, Slow To Update, Spoilers for Age of Resistance, War, Yup they Gay, also spoilers - Freeform, skekGra and urGoh, spirituality, take a shot every time SkekGra complains about his husband being slow, this isn’t dead I’m just in college, urGoh and skekGra invent The Muppets, urGoh the Wanderer, urRu Culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-23 11:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20891693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentWindsnap/pseuds/AgentWindsnap
Summary: In the waning days of the Garthim War urGoh and skekGra can't stay cooped up in the Circle of the Suns any longer while their visions get overrun with death and venture out to assist any surviving Gelfling in any way they can.No vision of Thra can prepare anyone from Parenthood, though.(AKA Jen is raised by the Heretic and the Wanderer instead of the Mystics). Spoilers for Age of Resistance.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: I own NOTHING; this is just for the sake of entertainment with no compensation. So please no copyright suing.
> 
> I LOVE the show-marathoned it on one night and doing a rewatch already. Of all the characters I hyperfixedated on other than Deet, Brea, and SkekMal, its these two old dudes and their meta puppet show enough to write my first fanfic in YEARS. Not a big fan of the movie though because I didn't grow up with it and I have some problems with the storyline, but I do see the hard work and dedication to it so I don't dislike it. I realized that Jen being a boring character could be improved tho, someone on tumblr already thought of this au before I did, and BOOM! I could actually like the Dark Crystal more!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Canon genocide, agoraphobia, smoking, references to self-harm and past torture.
> 
> Terms of Thra:  
Trine: Roughly 1 Earth Year  
Unum: Roughly 1 Earth Month  
Crystal Skimmers: Those flying manta rays in the desert from the show.

*** 

SkekGra relented going outside as long as he did.

He needed to sweep, as if he didn’t brush away the litter on the floor of their crafting tables with the straw broom and gave up after doing a figure-8 two, maybe three times before getting bored. 

It takes him time to get in the mood to craft, when he can procrastinate more of the day and night away but put the highest quality he could into his puppets with all the practiced patience of a skilled creator in less than an hour. 

I need a smoke—he’d inhale deep from his pipe and exhale a cloud to float up into the sky with the masses. Nerves, he’d state, and his hands would cease shaking from some tension of the mind and not energy from the soul. There really was no set time to commune with Thra, and his shakes happened once in four unum, roughly. 

Too hot, like he didn’t live in the Crystal Desert or spent many a trine ago stationed near the equator and tropics once to overthrow. His feathered neck had thinned before to keep him adapted to the heat. 

My back hurts, as if him and urGoh were two separate beings and less than they are feeling their aches in empathy, not corporeal. 

urGoh never accused him of his justifications being unreasonable or pointed out the weak point of the defenses Skekgra made (for these excuses—SkekGra was _terrible_ at leaving things where they weren’t supposed to be left, eating his food like an absolute slob, and he picked his toes and cuticles on the bed into bleeding). He hummed, nodded, and promised to be back when the suns dipped into twilight. 

“No you won’t!” SkekGra would call behind his back, crossed legged on the floor and hard at work putting a Moog bone necklace together again after he had taken it apart, “You’re so slow the birds would circle you before you stepped out of the Circle thinking you were dead!” urGoh would just sigh and go down the ramp leading out of the ruins to harvest more desert plants or watch a Moog outgrow its old home and scuttle into a new shell. When he made it back up to the Circle of the Suns like he would, a lantern would be on next to the Skeksis’s sleepy hunched back over a plate of licked-cleaned food and forgotten craft pushed aside and calmly get ready for bed together. He wouldn’t make a fuss (much, as he weaved his talons through the Mystics hair, ridding him of sand and mutter with no real bite at how unkept his half would get) as they slipped out of their robes and huddled in their loft, his back melding to the Mystic’s torso as close as their sculpting clay could mold into new clay with enough touches and pressing. 

SkekGra missed him. He couldn’t bring himself in words how much he always did and how much he didn’t always want stay inside and sulk or be fired up with his thoughts until he entertained himself enough into complacency. The Circle gets too quiet. _Life_ gets too quiet. He needs his urRu self as he does his Skeksis self. He would like to go out and nag his counterpart’s interest in the grass growing or inspect what desert cactus flower would make a dye or moisturize his skin with his own examination. Sometimes he really wishes he could’ve gone with him this time but he never does, and urGoh wants him to make his move and hear him screeching over the sand dunes one day.

(“Stay under that cliff long enough and you’ll be buried under a landslide! ‘A desert doesn’t change’ my hide! One rock falling from the wind will change the entire landscape and crush your camp you’re just staring at a shedding lizard of all things? MOVE URGOH, MOVE!”) 

They’re the same entity made to roam. Except part of them learned to be afraid of his impulse because of no choice (wrong, urGoh would say if he heard that. There’s always choice; look at them in the Circle of Suns side by side). 

SkekGra didn’t like to go outside anymore since his banishment. His status as a fugitive now most likely wanted dead if he’s ever seen again by the Skeksis for his unorthodox talks, his association for igniting the rebellion with the Dual Glaive, and his tether to urGoh made him afraid to be harmed before their conjunction (no ifs—_when_, when it happens). No amount of soothing or curatives helped eased his anxiety long enough to stay outside the Circle of the Sun’s entrance for 15 minutes longer. 

But he _loathed_ to be alone in the Circle for too long. 

When the Dousan’s Crystal Skimmers became less frequent to watch flying in the skies and their sessions with Thra became more pained and discomforting hearing Thra moan in bone-dried agony, urGoh said he wanted to set out of the desert to find answers to his speculations he wanted his eyes to see, not his heart to twist in doubt on what he couldn’t know for sure. 

“We…gave…our…message…and the shard…to…Gelfling…once…, and we did…our part…there…. We…need…to…keep…supporting…who’s…left…and…keep…the…embers…burning.” 

This kind of talk made him an outlier to the other Mystics. He didn’t care then, but he figured with great thought that he minded it now when the Great Conjunction drew closer and Thra wailed in songs over missing children and amounting bodies. SkekGra brings out his sheltered motivations as a gardener tends to a slow blooming tree. 

The Skeksis’s brow would pinch and his talons on his staff and hips would clench before shaking his head and turning to go into the next room. The mystic tried to encourage a few more times but the Skeksis’ didn’t say yes, uncharacteristically subdued and placid for such a heavy task he’s asked to do. But he couldn’t say no. 

When urGoh woke the next morning before the three brothers rose on the day he set out his undertaking, ready to go alone, he realized his side of the bed was empty and he saw SkekGra was already awake and packed as the well-prepared and practical adventurer he was back in the day with no apparent signs he was let down from migrating or camping. “Well?,” the Heretic waving his staff in the direction of the steps to the back. “What are you waiting for? If we wait any longer it’ll be noon and we’ll burn alive because you were so slow to get up. Make haste, urGoh!” Without waiting for a reply from the Mystic he just scoffed and led the way downstairs himself, clacking his staff on the stone and hand out on the wall adjacent to him for support climbing down. urGoh took his time getting out of the loft and collect his gear, and when he made it to the bottom his companion was tapping his foot and muttering to himself, but he waited and didn't leave without his other half. (_"Hurry UP already!"_) 

SkekGra was once The Conquerer for death and slaughter in the name of the Skeksis’s rule. Now he was SkekGra the Heretic, recluse of the Circle of Suns, but still held some truth to his old name where he took his first steps off the incline in weeks with bated breath as he distanced himself away from the entryway. Walking isn’t scary. No-siree! Uh-uh, nope! This is easy! 

The thin, gloved talons clinging to the Mystic’s wide and calloused hands for reassurance said otherwise, but the Skeksis had an unflinching spark in his eyes set forward and he patted himself on the metaphorical shoulder that he never once looked back. 

urGoh gave his other a genuine smile for his courage and lightly shouldered his hip with his head on the guise he sunk into the sand. But he did rub his thumb over joints until the tension eased out into thin air from that one touch. 

… 

Later… 

_“UGH! **SO! SLOW!** How much longer do I have to walk you, Mystic?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written fanfic in years and this is unbeta-d so please be kind and I welcome constructive criticisms. 
> 
> Mood music for this chap: Reflections — Christopher Larkin from the Hollow Knight Soundtrack.


	2. Bound To Roam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: I own nothing.
> 
> Its the first chapter and already was a fucking nightmare when the Dark Crystal’s locations and lore are all over the place and there’s no one map to find anything anywhere. This series is nearing 38 years old and there’s no goddamn consistent map of Thra?! If you actually are crazy enough to scour the internet for a legible map of Thra (like me), the Crystal Sea in the Northwest is actually closer to Stone-in-the-Wood than the Mystics Valley that’s situated in the far south, so there’s credible enough reason for these grandpas to find Jen before the Wise Mystic urSu did (so if that’s the case why was he around a Gelfling village so far away from the Valley???)<strike>(why is there no good or consistent map of Thra even tho the movie has a cult following?)</strike>
> 
> And yeah, I have midterms coming up soon and I havent slept right in days. Fun.
> 
> Terms of Thra:  
Trine: Roughly 1 Earth Year  
Unum: Roughly 1 Earth Month  
Animal Soul Speaking: The ability to communicate with animals and command their loyalty. Podlings, Kira, and the Chamberlain are known practitioners.  
Swothel: Creatures native to the Crystal Desert only known for their glowing milk.  
“Mala!”: Skeksis word for “Retreat!” (Chamberlain says this to the Garthim to stop them from attacking Kira and Jen)
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: war, genocide, smoking, minor self-harm.

***

They checked on the Dousan first.

Tricky, as their usual settlements were vacant yet the area of land was maintained and cultivated as they always did to keep the desert healthy without being as intrusive as possible to nature’s way. As best keeping the Darkening at bay. 

Striking a power stance with his staff held at full mast on a boulder SkekGra took a sniff of the air and exhaled purr thru his mouth. “Ahh, _fresh air_. And everything feels so crisp. Good time to leave, yes!”

It was indeed. Living so long in the desert made them attuned to its changes and environment, and they each picked up a nugget of information here and their from their thousands of trine of experiences to make the best of it together. Their backs were straighter, SkekGra had a skip to his walk, urGoh licked the salt beading down his face for electrolytes, the crystal pinnacles casting stripes of color everywhere from the light, their feet caked in dirt but feeling the warmth from the sun brothers without baking: it wasn’t so bad outside side to side again if their moods were in tandem. They were on a dire mission, but the Wanderer was immensely glad for the Heretic being enriched again and said so aloud that he was physically glowing.

Humming in agreement from his post, the Heretic covered his eyes from the Suns and skimmed through the land with binocular vision. He squinted and counted a beat. “Adobes are west from here, not seeing much activity yet though. We head there!” SkekGra bounced off his overlook and trotted a bit in the set destination now that they had one. But then he spun on his heels in a 360*, robes fluttering around him, and physically slouched and groaned at urGoh’s pace. “COME ON~!”

The pueblos were empty when they got there eventually. Briefly the two split up to search inside the domiciles and only found replaceable belongings and no fresh or preserved food to be found in the kitchens. They later checked behind for another settlement half a mile away, in the slot canyons for the ones carved along the walls to the west of that, and another mile away at a different community. Meeting up in a later in an abandoned bazar of the fourth settlement confirmed what they already knew; no one was here. A few days ago maybe several might of lived here, but they’re gone.

“If the Gelfling are here, they’re hiding real good. But Crystal Skimmers and those fizzgig jackals are hard to keep quiet and behaved all at once in one place, and they couldn’t have set them free when they need them too much to let go. And there’s no sign of struggles or anything ransacked,” SkekGra mused. The end of his staff made circles over the two pairs of footprints they found that disappeared fairly soon over rockier ground. “They could be at the Wellspring for all I know but it’ll be overcrowded and their resources thinned. It wouldn’t be so bad if we just find them first!”

urGoh took a sip of their tea from their thermos before a third arm lifted a finger in realization. “Or…they could find…us.”

His other made a vague gesture with his hands in front of him, glanced up at the sky for help, but his retort died after a thought and he slumped. “I’m going to hold it to that at this rate.”

It took SkekGra and urGoh almost a week of hiking and home invading to know what exactly was going on with the ghost settlements from a posse they stumbled upon one night. The mystic smelled the bonfire smoke and a tanned Fizzgig roared something ferocious out of the dark at them on the way to the source. Not much sooner, the Mystic thought, as the Heretic’s enthusiasm started to drain quickly more out in the open even with his other half with him. His eyes would start darting around and above them, he became more snappy to urGoh to hurry up as if they were being watched by hidden eyes, and his habit of itching the nail in his head arose when he became too agitated was getting too close to being routine.

Now he was just agitated at the yapping fur ball biting the end of his staff when he tried to gently prod the beast away from his feet. “Shoo, I say, Shoo!”

“Who’s out there!” A voice called out. Oh, _finally_. Sentient, talking, life!

“A friend and a slowpoke!” SkekGra didn’t want to kick the canine but it started barking at urGoh instead when it noticed another intruder and couldn’t get close to the one’s robes. “And call off your jackal! We’ve been looking—_SHOO!_—We’re looking for Gelfling!”

His other only knelt lower to the animal’s lever and held out his hand, unperturbed. “Easy…now…” The fizzgig stopped yapping the whole valley awake, but it continued to growl at the hulking dinosaurid pangolin and raptor while footsteps could be heard trotting up now. urGoh, still holding two arms out, started a low hum deep in his throat of a song of animal soul speaking that finally calmed the canine enough to sniff his appendages and allow for chin scratches. He gasped in surprise when it suddenly clambered in his many arms for cuddles right when a yellow light revealed 9 figures facing them. They back up a step when the Skeksis’ cackle echoed around them and drew their swords out. 

“Oh wonderful, we’ve been looking for any Gelfling in this desert sea for _ages_! You wee ones are sure hard to find now, but I can forgive that because we found you!”

“Your…dog…is…friendly…” urGoh laughed as he had more than enough hands to give his new, affectionate friend all the pats and scratches he could offer. 

“We are the Heretic and the Wanderer! And it’s so wonderful to finally meet Gelfling again!” SkekGra exaggerated a bow at the posse before leaning sideways to elbow his companion. “You see that urGoh! We found them! We found the Gelfling!”

One Gelfling lass, a Dousan by her silver filigree face-paint and hijab, took a hard look at them holding their guard animal being lovingly spoiled before recognition filled her eyes and she scrunched up her face to the night sky. “They’re safe everyone. We know them as residents of the doomed temple. We can kill them first before they harm us.”

SkekGra’s head wiggled upright at her tone while the Fizzgig lapped at Urgoh’s snout in kisses. “Well then when you put it like that we sound like we weren’t the one who gave you the Dual Glaive!”

When the pair took refuge in the Circle of the Suns 380 trine ago, it took two days of finally unwinding in the temple after hiding the Dual Glaive in Grot and…all that had happened at the Crystal Palace…for the desert Gelfling folk to find them on a Crystal Skimmer. They recognized their Skeksis Lord Conquerer from the stories, saw the gentleness and harmless nature of the Mystic, and offered them a respite into the Wellspring before not so passive aggressively wished them to leave.

Even with the new unity of the clans, the Dousan were still isolationist and, with those looks they gave the pair, disliked foreigners. The two fugitives healed at the Wellspring, but refused to leave the one area the Skeksis would never venture into, and promised to live in the Circle of the Suns in exchange for not disrupting the people. Not a fair gig however when the Dousan told their children, and their children’s children and so on, that the Circle was cursed afterwards because they refused to come in for the hospitality and surprise puppet shows they offered to them if they ever wanted to. urGoh mulled over dinner once early back then; they could have just said no or just try something different once. “_Not to us, Mystic,_” said SkekGra, “_Skeksis’ manipulation is strong, even if they’re not favorable to the Dousan. They got word of my heresy and want nothing to do with us._” What a sulker he was back then.

But with two Sifan brothers and a Varpa of all things among the group illuminated by their lanterns they carried over, at least they could tolerate Gelfling more than they could have tolerated a Skeksis. Fair point, SkekGra shrugged without feeling insulted; you win some, you lose some. One fun Skeksis he still was and one of two who called for the Gelfling clans to be whole again against his kind’s separatist views, but a Skeksis nontheless. He liked the defiance the desert folk had before that. 

“Wait, what?” the Varpan piqued, “The dual glaive? But Rian and Deet found it.’

“Who do you think told them where it was, hmm Gelfling?” Some of the posse winced when he rotated his head upside-down, eyes twinkling in mirth with a cheeky grin. He was in a jovial mood currently without feeling uneasy for the first time in a week, impending threat of something afoul be damned now he and his other half found valuable company.

“May we…sit…with you…?” urGoh inquired, having settled the fizzgig down enough to nestle in the crook under this first arms. “We have…questions…that…need…answers…to…” he drawled out, and SkekGra resetted his head to nod gravely along.

The Dousan woman from before, the leader of the posse, nodded after a moment and made a ‘come over’ motion for everyone to follow back to the campfire. If anything she just wanted this over with and get their guard dog back.

Both travelers groaned when they sunk down onto the mats lying around the fire and waited until everyone was settled in a circle away from them when the Heretic clapped his talons together and rubbed his gloves together. “So, where have you all been?” 

_‘Ah, my other half,’_ urGoh braced himself inwardly. _‘My better half, life of our lives. So gregarious and candid now after years of growing into your best self, please don’t instigate anything even though you are trying.’_ He freed the set of arms not holding his staff and the fizzgig and unloaded his packs next to him, and moved SkekGra’s own belongings and staff between them for easy reach.

“The pueblos are all abandoned and you’re the only Gelfling we’ve seen in weeks. Have any big plans? Are you gonna shank those Skeksis off their tails?” 

“Why should we tell you anything? You’re a Skeksis!”

Oh dear. “Please don’t…”

“**_WHAT DID YOU CALL ME_**?!”

Weapons were back up at them and the fizzgig gave a warning growl to the seething, vibrating figure leaning close the Gelfling that the fires flickered terrifying bold shadows on his face. 

urGoh signed as he scratched his snout a little. “_SkekGra_,” he groaned.

SkekGra deflated immediately and giggled, waving his hands in a placating gesture as his facade died.

“Oh I jest, I jest! By Thra it always gets ‘em. I am a fun Skeksis! The funniest one of all and the most despised of my kind. They call me Heretic, banished from the Castle for blasphemous talks of order and peace for the greater good.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his own joke and made himself comfortable again. “I promise you we mean you no harm. My companion and I have been traveling for days and we wished to find ways to help you!”

“Help us?” A Dousan girl looked no older than a teen but she looked ready to strike them down like a viper if they so much walked around the fire. “No Skeksis’ are good. They’re liars and murders, what are you going to do? Go up to the castle and politely tell them to stop?”

“I just said I don’t have any allegiance to those bastards, didn’t I?” SkekGra shook his head, now dour. “I could if I wished wee one, I so wished I could walk up to them and demand a stop to all this needless slaughter. My companion here urGoh is all that I have left, and I tell you you’re not gonna find a Skeksis willingly be around these slowpokes.” Talons snapped suddenly as if SkekGra remembered something, and he held out a hand in front of the Mystic (he paid no mind to the fizzgig so comfortably held to a warm chest but ready to bite fingers off if that raptor man did anymore funny business. What a good boy, protecting his other half as he did even if they just met). “ugGoh, you’re with me in this, say hi or something.”

“My friend…speaks…true…” the Wanderer nodded at the Gelfling, his voice pacifying the uneasy posse and they immediately relaxed without consciously realizing they did. “Its been…quiet…as of…la…late…and…your…com…commun…communities…”

“You weren’t home!” The Heretic interjected. “You’re just gone alright? Its a lot of stress to find Gelfing in the sands while there’s a revolution going on, we haven’t rested much because we kept walking from pueblo to pueblo to find you for a start! We’re famished after a week of this and we don’t get water until its nighttime.”

“You went into our homes?” The leader asked.

“What you said, about having the Dual Glaive and giving it to a Stonewood and a Grottan for free, is that true?” A veteran inquired.

“Don’t eat Honey, please?” The Varpan shouldn’t feel safe that their guard dog was so taken with one of them when the other clearly had lost his marbles to be anything but hazardous. 

“We don’t have to tell you anything!” The younger warrior exclaimed. “We don’t know you very well and you shouldn’t be privy to what we do.”

“And we don’t have enough food for hand outs,” one of the Sifan sneered when the Skeksis scooted closer to the bonfire. Swords were placed on laps, but no one was about to attack just yet. At this point their curiousness outweighed that now that things were getting more interesting from these strangers.

SkekGra beamed. “Oh that’s fine!” Shuffling for something in his sack he fished out his parcel of rice, mushroom, beans, ground peeper beetles, seeds, citrus juice, and swothol milk creme concoction wrapped into a maize flatbread. Water, flour, and salt were a must-have on them so that they can gather what they could find around them to eat, throw it in a quickly baked wrap with no utensils required, preserve extras for later, and have it already wrapped to eat. “We got our own!”

“We won’t…stay…long,” the Wanderer said, pulling out his own as his half already started to unwrap and dig in. For propriety he pulled a piece off for the Fizzgig to snack on before he took the first bite. “We..only need…some…rest…before…we..contin…nue…” The Heretic ate with one hand and waved the other in a continuous circular motion, “Uh huh, uh hun yup!” Saying anything too complex with a full mouth meant he’d get _that look_ from his half and he didn’t need it right now. “And…some…news…about…the…re…rebel…rebe—

“REBELLION!” Food blasted from a puffed up beak and talons waved erratically at the bonfire. “WE NEED TO KNOW WHATS GOING ON WITH THE REBELLION! AUGHRA’S HANGING TITS! WHATS IT LIKE ON THE ROADS OUT THERE!”

Oh urGoh gave him _that look_ alright. And he scared the ferocious fizzgig again. In front of Gelfling no less. Ugh…yeah, fine. Sorry. However SkekGra only huffed and used his sleeve to wipe his beak to hide a pout. “We’re gonna leave soon but we need to know exactly what’s happening for safe travels. We need to do some things and for the better its for your benefit. It’s very important wee ones, no impulsive routes or foolhardy mistakes, we can’t afford to be hurt when we’re so old.” And connected in more ways than flesh, but he let that slip. 

“We…_I’ve_…supported…many…races…as best…as I can…for trines…” the Wanderer certified to support his other’s plea for collaboration. He spoke of Podlings he saved from fires, of lost Gelfling needing figurative directions, of stopping a force from striking down the unyielding. His title was not empty; he traveled more than most other mystics (the other being the Archer and the Swimmer), and quickly learned being passive wasn’t always the answer to a peaceful mind or a sound way of life. He was open to a lot of things and made his own opinions. Introspection meant little is there was little of him to self-exam because he could have done so little in this life. He was inspired to do good, active good, and when the negativity of the world pushed at those in its way he encouraged them to push back. If he offered goodness to Thra, then Thra will surely give it back.

SkekGra never made a snide quip during his soliloquy, earnest to let him continue and serious in what he heard as if he never perceived or had been an active part of the hardest of the Mystic’s life so intimately before. His better half has done so much for Thra and he never asked for compensation or glory. Oh Mother Aughra, urGoh was too good for him and he can only dream about making it up for him and his own past life for causing unneeded grief.

The Gelfling made faces at them, all varying in expression of intrigued and self-consciousness, but one Dousan couldn’t stand the uneasiness anymore and relayed the latest Dreamfast sessions reported the current events with the two. She’ll get the reprimand from her chief later, this was just too surreal and they’ll be in circles all night!

The Dousan heeded the call of the Dual Glaive and left to Stone-in-the-Wood. SkekGra hollered in triumph while urGoh grinned and laughed in relief when their hearth fire turned blue with Rian’s face and message unfurled all over Thra for the uprising of the Skeksis and petition to merge into one against an enemy (_“It worked urGoh! IT WORKED! AHAHAHA THE GELFLING HAVE THE GLAIVE!” The heretic cheered before the two embraced, spun, and swayed in their home with the Podling-Slave gaping near them_). Those who were abled left their beloved desert to go fight in the war when all that was borrowed from Thra could not return back to the earth in death. With the unity of the Gelfling, hope and exacting justice was within reach.

That was months ago. The Gelfling had an advantage in numbers, but the Skeksis were obstinate and uncompromising. 

Unlike the six clans, the Dousan were never forced to leave their land and make way for Skeksis influence and mastery over their own laws, but their pueblos had to be abandoned to distance themselves away from the borders. As strong as the new machines ‘Garthim’ were as they were growing numerous, the automatons seemed to stay clear into full Desert Sea territory for the most part. Either because of limitations to the sands interfered with their husks or the Skeksis really were unnerved by the Dousan’s death positive perspective but too jumpy to go into their dominion in full invasion yet for essence, for now their way of life is stable yet altered into new routine. But the Garthim were trying to get in when they passed by the borders, except their routes into slot canyons and sheer cliffs were so predictable all the Dousan did was cause landfalls on them or weave their likeness into blankets, wave them at the machines to back them up, and let the fall crush them down. urGoh appreciated that in the sense they never had to use blunt or sharp weapons to take the Garthim down.

No one seemed to know the whereabouts of the ones called Rian, Brea, Deet, or that Podling Friend-Slave that took Lore from them: either anyone who knew them personally were either gone, missing, or in hiding and they were asking the wrong Gelfling. Or they were likely dead, but there was always something. They didn’t know for sure and would likely never have a real answer, but urGoh sent a silent prayer that the four be protected and Thra watch over them in the dark.

(“Where are the Crystal Skimmers?” SkekGra inquired as he lit his and urGoh’s pipes after their meal for a puff. No one wanted a drag with them when urGoh offered, even the Dousan. Really, even the Dousan said no to a smoke with them? “You need them for fast transportation. You can’t just hide a giant flip flap pancake that farts gas.”

One gelfling snorted at the Heretic’s choice of words, but the others shared an uncomfortable look.

“We still use them, but the beginning of summer is their annual 4 year migration to the seas for mating and egg laying in the mangrove nurseries. The olds ones stay and they’re being stretched as it is relocating around.”

Now it was the Heretic and Wanderer’s turn to share a look of stupefaction in their hazy mist. 

“_Oh._”

“Forgot…about…that…”)

Like the Dousan, the Grottan were among the better protected after the cleanse of the Darkening in Grot and their new relationship with the Arathim. They seemed to be doing well, all things considered. 

The Sifa are the strongest line of defense on the west coast with their naval prowess giving the Skeksis some grief and valuable goods for their plight.

The Drenchen were the craftiest in guerrilla tactics and mobility and many were saboteurs and spies. Spriton was strong with warriors on the direct frontline of the Crystal Castle.

Stone-in-the-Wood is being hit with the worst of the Garthim Raids, and Stonewood and Spriton are shrinking faster than they can get back up. Knowing the history of Stonewood having the most fertile land for agriculture and the history of their servitude to the Skeksis as their valuable guards, this troubled SkekGra greatly.

“The Garthim Master controls the machines, and every while he comes back with more of them,” the veteran added, being in the frontlines for some of their raids in villages for Gelfling. “We can destroy them, but it requires a lot of brute force to kill one. They move in predictable paths and mannerisms so its like they share a simple mind, but they don’t all fall down like the Arathim do. Sometimes when the master is there though he’ll call out to his beasts with a staff and a command, but I’ve seen another Skeksis control them with a call.”

The Heretic was familiar with particular commands. “Can you tell me what they said, specifically?”

“Ah, it was,” the veteran spun a finger in a circle near this temple for a moment, then snapped them against his thumb. “It was…_Mala!_ They say _Mala!_ Gelfling heard of it before and tried it themselves, but it only seems to work with Skeksis voice.”

The two travelers shared a meaningful look, conveying something the group couldn’t pinpoint down what, but their faces were stony and the significance passed. 

SkekGra and urGoh thanked the posse for their new insights and bid them a cheery goodbye when they had what they needed.

“Don’t be shy now! The Circle of the Suns will always have a surprise for wayfaring Gelfling! Just remember to knock first!” SkekGra sang out to them on the way out with a wave. 

“Honey, you can’t go with them girl, come here!” The Dousan warrior called out and the Varpan knelt with their arms out and open, clicking their tongues to get her attention back. 

The fizzgig lapped the Mystic’s face one last time and he stroked her fur back once more. “You…are…a…wonderful…protector…” he smiles, and Honey just pants up at him before rolling in a ball back to her Gelfling. And thus was the surrealist campfire story of vagrant travelers who talked in the strangest of ways and serenaders of their trained watchdogs. 

After a week of traveling through the desert SkekGra and urGoh returned to the Circle of Suns to restock on new a new list of supplies before heading back out after a quick rest. One week out of the Circle became two. Two weeks turned into a unum. An unum into two, and soon they made frequent trips out of the Crystal Sea in the first time in trines. They had a system now and a new plan, and adhere to it as long as they could.

The Skeksis’ hands still violently trembled in urGoh’s own, always held on for dear life exiting their home, but he was growing quicker in shedding his frozen, mute shell into returning to his flippant, cheeky attitude and making up new stories for their future puppet shows. Going back to the Circle of the Suns was more for urGoh’s assurance for this other’s wellbeing than for Thra’s sake. He wouldn’t make his other stay distant from home for too long and make his unsettled mind more confining than what his past did to him. Sometimes he felt the phantom pains in his head and his arms and made the decisions himself to go back. He counted it as a small victory in this tense world that SkekGra insisted an hour or day longer out in the wilds because he was having a ball getting dirty and messing up the Skeksis’ day in secret.

They had a lot to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based the Dousan off the Indegineous in Southwest America, particulary the Zuni. Also the Death Positive Movement.
> 
> Was anyone kind of peeved that we didn’t get to see SkekGra’s and urGoh’s reaction to Rian’s message? We saw all the major and minor characters reacting but not the two who literally made, hid, and gave directions to the glaive? 
> 
> Canonically urGoh appeared before the show in comic series “The Dark Crystal Creation Myths, Vol. 3” where he lived with the Mystics for a time but took an active role in saving Podlings, Gelflings, and another race called the Maraks before the Skeksis could kill them. He knew Raupin, the son of Aughra, and gave him directions to a place where the Maraks could live without accidentally terrorizing villages before he disappears with them forever. SkekGra wasn’t made/canonically named in 2016 then, yet SkekVar the general was there (and a dehydrated lanky Twink then) leading the army, and this was during the early years after the Great Divide so I made it where here SkekGra was just in the background ready to slaughter the Maraks for Gelfling approval. Whats funny is that the Skeksis and urRu actually had negotiations together before shit hit the fan.


End file.
